


Some Fine-Tuning Required

by Beth H (bethbethbeth)



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Episode-related:The Magical Place, Feel Free to Call This an AU, Gen, Justified Bad Language, M/M, Not Entirely Hopeless?, anti-fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-08
Updated: 2014-01-08
Packaged: 2018-01-08 01:21:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 671
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1126715
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bethbethbeth/pseuds/Beth%20H
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Director Fury knew he'd need to share Agent Coulson's status with Clint Barton at some point, but he hadn't thought it would need to be quite so soon.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Some Fine-Tuning Required

**Author's Note:**

> Spoilers a-plenty for Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. episode 1.11, "The Magical Place.

"What the fuck, you fucking asshole?" Clint snapped at the man who'd just joined him in the observation room. "Seriously, what the fuck?"

"I'm going to assume what you meant to say was Good Morning, Director Fury. Thank you for not immediately calling security and throwing my ass into solitary confinement for sneaking in here without any fucking clearance."

Clint didn't reply. He just glared at Fury, anger and frustration written on his face.

"Excuse me, Agent Barton," said Fury. "Did I miss your response?"

"Yeah, whatever," Clint muttered, as he turned away from his boss. "I'm not saying I'm sorry. I mean, come on, Fury. What the fuck?"

The director stepped forward and stood next to Clint, the two of them silent as they watched the restless dreams of the man sleeping uneasily in the adjoining room.

"You planning on kicking me out of here?" Clint asked.

"Would there be any point?"

"Probably not," he said, then turned back around and leaned against the transparent side of the two way mirror, his arms crossed over his chest. "I've read the transcripts."

Fury sighed. "I'm guessing I have Stark to thank for that?"

"Doesn't really matter how I got them, does it? I mean...what the _fuck_!" Clint slammed the flat of his hand against the glass. "He thinks his parents are gone? He thinks Audrey was mourning him? He wishes he were fucking _dead_?"

"You weren't supposed to find out about his status until...."

"But I _did_ , goddammit! You let me think he was dead and he's not, but...he wishes he _was_? He thinks he's leading a new team?"

"Barton, listen to me...."

"He thinks he's leading a new team and that May is back out in the field?" Clint closed his eyes, then wrapped his arms tightly around himself and slid down the wall until he was sitting on the floor, head bent and shoulders hunched. "What the hell's wrong with him, Nick?" he asked softly. 

The director set the security code to privacy mode, then joined Clint on the floor. "I swear to god, Clint, we're trying to find out."

"You don't _know_?"

"He was dead, dammit. You understand that, right? Phil Coulson was _dead_. Loki killed him." Clint choked back a sob. "I couldn't let that happen, Clint. Couldn't lose my one good eye."

"So...what? You did...what the fuck did you do? Alien tech? Magic? Is this some zombie bullshit? Did you turn my...did you turn Phil into a fucking _zombie_?"

Fury shook his head. "He's not a mother-fucking zombie. But he's...the procedure needs some fine-tuning."

Clint scrubbed his eyes with his knuckles. "Yeah, it sure the fuck does. What else? Does he even remember...what does he remember?"

"Clint."

"Come on, Nick...does he remember anything about me?"

"Yes, he remembers Hawkeye."

"That's not what I was asking, and you fucking well know it."

Fury pushed himself up off the floor and straightened his coat. "Classified."

"Oh come _on_!"

"That is _classified_ , Agent Barton. _All_ of this is classified."

Clint looked up, but he couldn't see even a hint of "Nick" on the Director's face. 

"Yes, Sir," he said, as he stood up. "Am I allowed to go, or are you planning on keeping me here until..."

"Oh, for fuck's sake, Barton," Fury said. "We're not locking you up. You are not, however, at liberty to discuss this with anybody, and that includes Romanoff."

Clint frowned, then shrugged. He could promise to keep quiet.

"When something changes, I'll read you in. Until then, you need to keep the fuck out of here."

"Fine...Sir."

Clint took one last look through the glass at Phil, then turned around and headed for the door.

"Barton?" Fury said, just as Clint was about to disable the door's privacy settings. "Clint. We're doing everything in our power to fix this. You've just got to trust the system."

"Yeah, okay," Clint agreed quietly, then walked through the door.

Trust the system?

Not on his fucking life.


End file.
